


The World in your Words

by escamas_carmesi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, two dorks being dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 13:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20931314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escamas_carmesi/pseuds/escamas_carmesi
Summary: Sometimes we can’t say what we feel, so we write what we can’t say.  Or, how to fall in love by reading between the lines.





	The World in your Words

Byleth was many things to many people: a charismatic teacher, a brilliant tactician, a skilled fisher, a quiet gardener. She also happened to be an avid reader, and that was the thing that took people aback the most. If one stopped to think about it, it made sense: there weren’t that many hobbies a wandering mercenary could engage in as readily. It was also a hobby that didn’t require other people, which suited Byleth just fine. Sometimes she’d bring a book to read while the Black Eagles finished a written portion of an exam, and she found the respite a welcome addition to her life in Garreg Mach. 

Byleth’s most observant student and her most fervent admirer, Edelgard, took notice soon enough of her dear teacher’s reading and, wanting to know everything about this incredible woman, was curious as to what kinds of things Byleth read. She surmised they were likely tactical books, which meant she could learn more about her teacher’s tactical brilliance if she read them too. Maybe she could get a little closer to understanding how the professor's beautiful mind worked. Maybe she would understand herself a little better and why she is so completely and utterly besotted with this woman. 

Edelgard was surprised to learn that far from tactical books, her teacher was a voracious reader of novels. It seemed like an odd juxtaposition, her teacher with her blank expression, reading material that was meant to evoke the strongest emotions, inspire the fiercest passions. Regardless, one afternoon during the Harpstring Moon, she asked Byleth if her teacher would consider lending her the books as she finished them. “There are a lot more books in the library, Edelgard. Don’t you want to have your choice from those?” asked Byleth. The professor had a good point, and Edelgard had to give a response on the spot. “I guess I want to see what my dear teacher likes to read”, she finally conceded. Byleth quirked her brow an infinitesimal amount before catching herself and agreeing nonchalantly. Edelgard was ecstatic, but hid under a veneer of propriety just how excited she was. 

Edelgard quickly learned that Byleth was a woman of few words and many thoughts. The texts themselves were interesting, and often had a romantic bent that she had certainly not expected (was her dear teacher a hopeless romantic?) But more interesting were the additions Byleth made. Every book she got from her teacher was scrawled with notes around the texts, in the margins, between the lines. Aphorisms, questions, connections with other works, or just opinions of her teacher, were all enriching the stories they graced, like an extra layer of paint that completes the image on the canvas. Byleth never asked Edelgard what she thought of the books or her notes, so Edelgard never divulged it. She simply handed the book back to her teacher, thanked her for allowing her to read it, and got handed the next book of places beyond Dagda, of courage beyond life, of love beyond measure. 

In the Garland Moon, shortly after Edelgard’s birthday, Byleth’s style of note-writing seemed to change. She still wrote with the same charm and wit, but Edelgard felt the notes were now, in some way, addressing her. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Edelgard felt that maybe some of those observations were made just for her, with Byleth knowing that Edelgard was her sole audience in this stage of ink, and her knees buckled at the thought. These comments just spoke so much to her, that it was hard to think they were not intended for her eyes. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to daydream. Without thinking about it too much, she took this week’s book-a romance novel, of all things-and started writing her own notes. Between the lines of a paragraph where the main character is describing a friend of hers, an old man who read love novels all the time, enamored by their concept of love, Byleth wrote: “I think this will be me someday.” El wrote, in her neat cursive: “Why read it when you can live it?”, set aside the book, and giggled like the teenager that. Underneath it all, she was. She was still on cloud nine when she returned the book to her professor. As her eyelids started closing that night, she realized that it hadn’t been a daydream and that she had actually written in the professor’s book, without permission, and to flirt, of all things. Her eyes snapped wide open.

It wasn’t the nightmares that kept her awake that night. 

The next morning, Edelgard walked toward the classroom trying desperately to act like nothing had happened and she had not just horrendously let her hand slip and oh goddess she hoped Byleth didn’t catch her addition to the book. There was a possibility after all, that Byleth didn't bother to reread the books, or at least that she didn't revise them when she received them back. Most people did not read a book right after they finished it the week before.

But Byleth wasn't most people. That much she should have known already. 

That afternoon, after class, Byleth asked Edelgard to stay after class was dismissed. Hubert sent her an inquiring look which she returned with a dismissal. Whatever her teacher wanted to talk about, she did not want Hubert there to witness. But if Byleth saw anything, she didn’t comment on it. She just handed Edie the last book she had read, the flow of their information sharing uninterrupted. 

The book was a pretty short book with a nice heft to it, mostly from the ornate leather binding. There was no title in the front, and Edelgard figured it was because of the ornateness of the cover. As she cracked open the spine, she quickly noticed most of the pages were blank. She went to the very first page, then the second. Both were blank. In the third, in the middle of the page, were three words: 

“Tell me more.”


End file.
